


Till the end

by zandral



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Tumblr gave me this idea, pre-stucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1821241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zandral/pseuds/zandral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Bucky wasn't captured by Hydra when Steve came to tour in Europe?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Till the end

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Tumblr for this idea

As Steve stood on the stage in War torn Europe, ready to perform for the soldiers, he took a deep breath and tried remembering his lines. He knew the skit was stupid, and having the men sit down in the mud to watch him talk about how they should keep up the good work was almost worse than a gunshot wound. Here he was warm and cozy while the men who mattered where out there in the wet and cold waiting for him to put on a show. It made his gut curl as he knew he had no choice but too. It was in his contract to do these shows. Taking a deep breath, he shrugged out the nerves and plastered on that fake smile Bucky used to laugh at, saying it was worse than a sinner.

Thinking about his longtime friend made the man smile sincerely for a moment, hoping he was safe, if not able to be warm. Steve had tried to keep up with his letters to the man, but he was always traveling, and Bucky hadn’t the time to do more than a quick ‘I’m okay’ the last time. Steve decided that he’d write a letter after this performance, knowing it’d get to Buck sooner than if he was back in the states. Nodding his head in determination, Steve walked onto the stage plastering on a smile.

The whole army was dead silent.  As he walked up to the microphone, Steve realized that more than 300 soldiers not making noise at all was an achievement, and was tempted to remark on it, but instead stuck to the script, going to push through this hell of a performance like he pushed through a fight with the bullies back in Brooklyn.  After all, maybe this would cheer the soldiers up a bit, even if it was just to laugh at his costume, which he agreed was sort of ridiculous.

“Hey there soldiers, and thanks for-“

“ Thanks for Allowing me to come here!” The costumed loser finished with a grin. The other soldiers around him were making faces, grumbling about how this guy was standing there while they were sitting in the mud, while the only thing Bucky to do was look in shock at the tall man who sounded like Steven Grant Rogers, the punk from Brooklyn who got into too much trouble.

It couldn’t be him though, Bucky thought to himself, squinting up at the costumed man, a he talked about bravery and other things, though it sounded fake as if he was reading off a script-and as the man glanced down at his shield, Bucky confirmed it was a chintzy script this shmuck was reading off of.  It must be the cold getting to him, sitting in the dugouts every damn day finally catching up to him. Scrubbing his face in agitation, and missing Steve more and more this guy talked, yet  Bucky only looked up to see ‘Captain America’ (the most pretentious name in Bucks view) Some other solider stood up and threw something rotten at the man, missing his mark, but just barely.

“Oi!” The man said in a heavy Brooklyn accent, before the booing started up. Bucky’s eyes shot out of his skull as he recognized that accent as Steves, mouth open in disbelief. No way in Hell was that clown up there Steve. No way. Standing up as the man left, Bucky decided to get to the bottom of this. As the crowd dispensed, Bucky sneaked back to the stage to see the actors heavy shoulders and backside, taking off the mask and throwing it somewhere, blonde hair falling out messy and untamed.

As the man turned to put on a jacket, Bucky sucked in a breath, seeing the profile of Steven Grant Rogers, a face he dreamed about every night, and prayed was safe home in Brooklyn, asleep in a warm bed, but no. He was here in Europe. In Tights.

“Steven grant Rogers” Bucky growled out, making the man jump and turn to see the sargent, a shocked joy on his face as he saw his best friend for the first time in a long while. It almost made Bucky want to go over and hug the man, forget about being angry that he was somehow 6 foot and clowning around on stage. His anger must have showed on his face, because soon that joyful smile turned into confusion, then to realization and-ah there was the embarrassed blush.

“Buck, I can explain-“

“OH? CAN YOU NOW?” Bucky shouted at Steve, walking twards the man with rage. Steve, never one to back down from a fight, was slowly  walking backwards away from the pissed off Sargent. “Can you tell me Rogers, why the hell you are a foot taller?”

“err, actually “

“Can you tell me why the hell you are in EUROPE? When you failed HOW MANY TIMES on the physical?” Bucky continued, the yelling attracting a small group of people around them, Steve with his arms raised, and Bucky spitting mad.

“Yah buck you tell-“

“YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP LEWIE” Bucky yelled at the soldier who he knew threw a tomato at Steve, and after he got through with the punk in front of him, all of those soldiers who did that where in for a talk with Buckys fist later.  Steve’s eyebrows where raised as high as they’ve ever been before setting his jaw for the argument Bucky could tell was going to come out of Steves lips. Before he couls spout any of that trash, Bucky pointed a finger up, and that was a shocker that the Sargent would freak about later, at Rogers nose. “You don’t fucking start with the ‘I wanted to serve my country shit’ Steve, because this, TIGHTS? That’s aint anyone’s idea of servin. You know it.”

Steves jaw slacked at that, his eyes turning into something that resembled a kicked puppy. “You think I wanted to come here lookin like this Buck?” The man whispered to Bucky, leaving the man speechless for a moment. It was a moment long enough for the Suits to come in and break up the fight, a general walking up to the mob with a pissed off look that put Bucks to shame. Giving a sharp salute, Bucky knew he was going to be in deep shit now, but before the General could get out a word, Steve responded.

“General, this is Sargent Barnes-“

“Oh, you got his name before he started causing a scene Rogers” The General grumbled out, Bucky really hoping that he wasen’t going to be on KP duty till the war was over. Steve set his shoulders and looked at the General the same way as he looked at a bully before a fight, and Bucky could only pray that the kid had enough brains to just shut up, he knew better, but he still prayed.

“I knew him from before, the..ya know.” Steve said, moving his hand to point briskly at himself. The generals eyes widened slightly at this before turning to look at Bucky with a glare.

“Sargent, with me, you too Rogers. The rest of you, Scram!” The general barked, causing a flurry of activity as Steve and Bucky both walked to the man’s tent. Steve was looking nervous and Bucky just wishing he knew what the hell was going on.

After 3 hours of getting an explanation out of the General and a Brittish woman who Steve looked at like a love sick puppy, Bucky regretted wanting to know. His head hanging in his hands, Steve sat down next to him, alone in a tent that was all Steves, the wind from the opening not able to reach Bucky because Steve was blocking it with his body. That was a laugh, as Bucky could only remember how last Winter their rolls where switched around.

“So, this is permanent.”

“So far.”

“…You fucking punk.” Bucky sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands before looking up at Steve with worry. “ You god damn punk.”

“Buck-“

“No, you listen.” Bucky interrupted Steve, holding out his hand. Steve blissfully stopped talking, seeing the stress in his best friends eyes, but looked at Bucky as if he was upset that he wasn’t happy for Steve. He finally had a body that could not only hold all his courage, but also could do some good in the world without getting beat into next Tuesday. The Sargent understood this part, and was happy, proud even, of his friend, but the fact was that this was a war, not a back ally, and Steve could die.

Looking down at his own two hands, Bucky couldn’t look up at Steve as he spoke, the worry about ready to kill him. “I can’t see you die.” Bucky whispered out, the words being torn from his throat as he confessed his fear. He could feel Steve still right beside him as he continued. “I watched you almost die a thousand times, and you’ve always beat it Steve, always, but this ain’t a cold you can tough out, or wait till pay  day to get meds. This is war, and I’ve seen people already die in my troop and I know that one of these days they’ll put you out here with us and that you-“

“James, stop.” Steve whispered, taking Bucky into his arms and holding onto the now sobbing man. Steve could feel Bucky shudder through a sob as he remembered the men who he shared his smokes with being blown up, not even a body to send home, and thinking of Steve in that mans place. It wasn’t just a bad nightmare, but could be reality now. As he was held onto by Steve, he tried pulling himself together, Steve newly steady heartbeat comforting. Bucky swallowed a few deep breaths before he was able to push away, but Steve held on.

Looking up at the man, Bucky saw Steves eyes wet with unshed tears, looking at Bucky as if he was the only person in the world, no Nazis, no British woman, just Buck. “ I’d get dreams of getting a letter from the Army that you died while on tour,” Steve whispered, as if he was reciting to a lover his deepest pains, “I would wake up in a cold sweat, and thinkin, I gotta get to Buck. I couldn’t live with myself if I lost you when I could have stopped it.”

Bucky let out a weak chuckle then, leaning into Steves embrace. “Look at us, two goons who are worried sick about the other dying.” Steve smiled weakly back, wrapping his arms tighter around Bucky as he thought.

“Well then I guess we just gotta look out for each other out here, like we did back at home.  Cuz I ain’t leaving Buck, I’m here till the end of the line.” Steve ended, his jaw set. It made Bucky feel comforted that this man, who was healthy, tall and looked like a Greek statue, was truly Steve Rogers, that punk who got into a fight every other Alley. Only that man could look so stubborn, and make Bucky want to follow him into hell and back.

Sighing, Bucky closed his eyes, tired now from the events of the day, and enjoying being warm for the first time in months. “ Then I’m with you till the end of the line, punk.”  Steve smiled and Bucky could hear the fondness in the man’s voice as he replied to the same old tease they used to do every day in Brooklyn.

“Jerk.”

“I ain’t the one wearing tights Stevie.”

“…Shut up.”

**Author's Note:**

> It was all fun and games until the feels came in.


End file.
